


Just like a game of foosball

by ElisAttack



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: A Scandal, As a result of implied, BAMF Lydia Martin, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Office Sex, Personal Assistant Stiles Stilinski, Secret Service Agent Derek, Veep AU, Vice President Lydia Martin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-27
Updated: 2016-03-27
Packaged: 2018-05-29 10:52:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6371938
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElisAttack/pseuds/ElisAttack
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Politics is like foosball: fun, and must always be played with a cup of alcohol in hand.  That is, until the ball flies off the table, directly for your eye, because the President of the United States is a competitive asshole who can't lose in the privacy of his own man cave because he has issues the size of Rushmore."</p><p>Or the one where Stiles and Derek get it on, stupidly get caught, and now Lydia has to talk to a reporter she hates.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just like a game of foosball

**Author's Note:**

> I was watching Veep, and it is awesome, and spawned this drabble at one in the morning, because what the fuck is sleep?

"Madame Vice-President, is it true you had a secret service officer fired for smiling too much?"  The reporter asks, with a hint of mockery in her tone like she knows that no matter how Lydia answers, she's still fucked.

Lydia smiles as well natured as physically possible, making sure to show her teeth.  Allison always says it makes her look friendly.  Although Stiles says it makes her look like a shark.  Sometimes it's difficult to decide whose opinion is the most right:  her wife or her body man. 

At this moment it's her wife, since her most trusted body man is the reason she is in this situation in the first place.

"That is incorrect,"  Lydia smiles, tilting her head to the side.  Nothing more embarrassing for a reporter than to be caught with the wrong information.  "Mr. Hale was not fired, he was reassigned."

The reporter doesn't even look phased.  "That doesn't change the fact that a man who served two tours in Afghanistan, and who has been protecting the politicians of Capitol Hill for five arduous years has been punished for showing too much emotion."

Lydia's smile falters ever so slightly.  God, she fucking hates reporters, all they ever want is to eat her alive.  Why can't they ever do a nice story?  Why is it always her blunders, her flaws that they focus on.  Why not her charity work?  Why can't they see that she also wants to save the goddamn whales and raise the literacy rate?  Is that too much to ask?

"Well, Ms...?"

"Mulaney."

"Ms. Mulaney,"  Lydia corrects herself even though she very well knows the reporter's name.  It's always good to 'forget' a name to shift the power dynamics, and it seems to be working.  The reporter looks slightly less smug, going by how hard her fingers are clenched around her tape recorder.  "Mr. Hale was not reassigned because he showed an unprofessional amount of emotion.  Although emotion is one of the real reasons, it just isn't the kind you are thinking of."

"Then Ma'am, why?"  The reporter asks, shoving the recorder closer to Lydia.

"Mr. Hale was intimately involved with one of my staff, and that was the reason for the reassignment."  Lydia says with pursed lips.  She really wanted to keep the affair under the radar, but ever since it somehow got out that she reassigned Derek, she's been getting the heat from the press.  And she cannot afford to have so much negative attention on her.  Her ratings cannot afford to drop even one percent.

So Stiles, like the self sacrificing idiot he is, offered to throw himself under the bus.

The reporter looks like Lydia just handed her a golden apple.  Her eyes light up like the fourth of July, and her smile widens so much so it looks like her lips are about to split at any moment.

"How unprofessional."  The reporter sneers, "Was your staff member, the woman Mr. Hale had an affair with, was she also punished?"

 _Woman_.  Lydia could scoff, although Stiles does have a very feminine profile, he is the furthest thing from a woman.

"They have been suspended without pay."  Lydia confirms, not adding that it was only for one day because even a day longer without Stiles to carry around her bag and whisper in her ear about the recent marriage of the congressman she is conversing with, or what the fuck a short stop in baseball is so she can win over a senator's vote, is a day too long.

"Fair enough, it is good for the people to see you do not favour anyone under you."

Lydia smiles and nods. 

Except, she does favour Stiles.  So much so, he was the one to give her away at her wedding.  Stiles is Lydia's second favourite human on the planet, and the only reason Derek isn't jobless is because Stiles asked.

After the meeting, Lydia wipes away a bead of sweat from her brow.  The moment she sits down in her leather chair, Stiles is there, placing a cup of rosehip tea in front of her, a scone on the side, exactly how she likes it. 

"How'd it go, boss man?"  Stiles asks sarcastically, rubbing her shoulder and unwinding a few kinks.

"I threw you so far under the bus you're practically a mechanic."

Stiles snorts, "Gee, thanks, Lyds."

She pokes at Stiles' side, making her body man squeak in indignation, "That's what you get for fucking my secret service agent."

"Can you blame me?"  Stiles whines, rubbing at his side, "You've seen him in a suit, and in those dark black sunglasses."  Stiles fans himself, "Hot damn.  And besides he hated this job anyway, nothing to do but stand outside your door and watch the day go by."

"So that's why you fucked him, charity?"

"Oh Lyds, I fucked him for his ass and his adorable personality."

Lydia rolls her eyes.  "It's a good thing the reporter never asked what the reassignment was, it would be strange if the punishment actually looked like a promotion.  Speaking of, how's Derek doing at his new job?"

Stiles chuckles, "Well, Ma'am, apparently the president has a foosball addiction.  There's a table hidden away in his secret man cave and he plays every chance he can get."

Lydia taps her lip in thought, "Put 'learn foosball' on my schedule, if I ever get myself invited to play with the president, I need to kick his ass to the fucking moon."

"Of course you do, Ma'am."

Lydia _has_ to be the best at everything.  It's a curse.

Lydia leans back in her chair, her cup of tea in hand, "And tell Derek that Allison wants the two of you over for dinner tomorrow."

Stiles salutes, "Will do Ma'am."

She waves her hand, shooing him away.  "That is all, Stiles."

Stiles bows with a low sweep before backing out of her office and closing the door. 

Lydia spins in her chair and wonders if foosball is anything like pool.  She's already fucking brilliant at that if she does say so herself.

**Author's Note:**

> Nice comments make me smile and squeal, mean comments make me cry and want ice cream. Don't make me want ice cream, I can never find the milk-free coconut kind.


End file.
